Welcome to Your Life, Kurt Hummel
by AnisaLee
Summary: An exploration of Kurt's life as his time at McKinley comes to a close and decisions have to be made.  Follows him through his last months at McKinley, college and his journey into adulthood.


The letter came on a Monday. The letter that determined what your future held was probably mailed out by some disgruntled secretary wanting to go home early the Friday before. A Monday. That's the day dreams would either come true or shatter.

It was on a Monday that you found out with your dad at your side and Blaine on speakerphone (as he looped back around from his location halfway between Lima and Westerville) that you hadn't been accepted into their musical theatre program. NYADA had thanked you for your time, but hadn't rewarded your efforts. They had explained that you should be "very proud" to have even "been chosen as a finalist" because they have several thousand applicants every year. They wished you good luck and that was that.

Your dad tried to comfort you, but didn't really know how. He told you he loved you and was proud of you as he pulled you into an awkward hug. You know he expected you to cry because he grabbed the nearest paper product (which happened to be a roll of paper towels) and set it in front of you.

Yet, you managed to compose yourself because, really, you half expected that. Or maybe that's just what you told yourself. Well, until Blaine arrived with a dozen blue roses, explaining that they meant "extraordinarily wonderful" and "new opportunities." He kissed you softly and told you they represented you and what you would have. It was then that your fragile walls crumbled from tears and you practically flung yourself into his arms, burying your head into his shoulder and holding on as tightly as you could. Your sobs were muffled by his shirt as he held you. It must have been quite a sight, the two of you holding onto each other, the roses being smashed between your bodies as you curled yourself around him as much as you could.

Your entire senior year had built up to that moment and instead of celebrating the beginning of your New York stage career, you found yourself barely being held together by your boyfriend. To add insult to injury, Rachel had received her letter too. She called you, unmasked excitement in her voice and you knew from the way she said "Hi" that she had gotten in. The first door to her Broadway debut had been opened.

You were thankful when Blaine slipped the phone from your hand and gently told her now was not a good time. He wrapped you up an embrace and it was like he was holding you together. Every fiber of your being felt disappointment course through like a poison. Your head told your heart that you knew this. That you had prepared yourself for this. You were used to rejection and disappointment. You were Kurt Hummel, that's what happens to you. But you always persevered. You were Kurt Hummel, that's what you did. It still sucked, though. You knew it was stupid, but for that brief second when you were opening that envelope, you allowed yourself to fantasize that the letter was one of congratulations. You let yourself live in that moment for one second and it had been amazing. It hurt to have it all come crashing down, but you rationalized that you still had your family and you still had Blaine who was holding you so very tightly.

It wasn't until a few weeks later that your dad brought up the question of other colleges and safety schools. You shrugged because NYADA had been it for you. Your dad sighed and mumbled something about talking to Ms. Pillsbury about what schools were still accepting applications. You didn't want to tell him, not right away, that you had applied to other schools; three in New York, two in Ohio and one in Illinois. In fact you had received three acceptance letters already from NYU, Ohio State and Northwestern. They were filed away between your mattress and box spring like they were dirty magazines. At the time you put them there, that's how they felt. It was as if you were betraying your New York dreams by even applying, much less getting in. But a part of you was grateful that you had. You had options. You could still go to the city, live with Rachel and be part of _New York_. However, she'd be surrounded by NYADA classes and workshops while you tried to contain your jealousy and disappointment. Not at all how you wanted to live.

So you secretly did research on each school you'd be accepted to. Finding out which one's offered the best theatre programs, which one gave you the most scholarship money and which one you could see yourself attending and actually enjoying. You felt a bit guilty, as if you were doing something illegal. You snuck around at night, clearing out your browser history when you were finished. You didn't know why you did it. Maybe it was because you had a feeling you were betraying your NYADA dreams by looking into other schools, but these other schools were willing to take you. NYADA had cast you aside like so many other hopefuls.

It took you two weeks to make a decision on where to go. No one, not even Blaine, knew of your late night escapades on the internet, or the list of pros and cons you made in your notebook that was also filled with hearts and Blaine's name.

"I'm…well, here," you murmured one morning at breakfast, sliding an acceptance letter across the table.

Your dad raised an eyebrow at you as he picked up the paper and Carole looked over his shoulder. Finn shoveled a spoonful of cereal into his mouth and peered over to see.

"Northwestern?"

You nod. You knew that this decision would confuse people. You spent the whole year talking about New York. You and Rachel had even started a New York binder. But futures change.

"I sent my audition video and was accepted into the theatre program with a certification in musical theatre. They offered me a scholarship that'll cover most of my tuition," you explained.

Your dad put the letter down and looked you straight in the eyes, "This is what you want? What happened to New York?"

"I'm sure this is what I want. It's the best option for me," you promised. Carole walked around the kitchen table and pulled you into a hug. She whispered she was proud of you and kissed your cheek.

So the decision was made. You told Blaine at school that same day and you could tell he wasn't quite sure what to think, but he hugged you anyways and told you he supported your decision. However, telling Rachel wasn't as easy. She looked at you and her eyes filled up and before you knew it, she was sobbing into your shoulder. She kept asking you why and what happened to your shared dreams. She asked you to reconsider, telling you she couldn't go to New York on her own, begged you to go with her because she couldn't do it by herself. A part of you started to crack and wanted to tell her that yes you'd reconsider, yes you would go with her, yes that 500 square foot apartment with the six floor walk up and the heater that never seemed to work would still be yours. Yet, you couldn't. You could only hug her and tell her that you'd still be friends.

Dreams. You supposed that's what high school was for, not just for getting sticky slush thrown on you or having bullies check you into lockers, but it was meant to help decide what your dreams were. And they changed a lot in the four years you were at McKinley, and for a brief time, at Dalton. At first all you wanted was to find someone to love you and whom you could love in return. Then you wanted to just be accepted (and in some ways you were and some ways you weren't). Finally, you dreamt of your name in lights as you graced a Broadway stage and were greeted by adoring fans at the stage door. To do that you thought you'd have to go to NYADA, but that changed too. Now, your dreams were filled with going to Northwestern and gaining the most out of their theatre program that you could. Sure, you knew NYU could have provided you with great training, but for some reason you felt in the pit of your soul that Northwestern is where you could flourish the most.

When graduation finally rolled around, you weren't quite expecting it. You knew that it was inevitable. All your plans were set. You had your housing ready and waiting for you, but it didn't hit you until the day you donned your cap and gown. That was going to be it. The following year, you wouldn't be making the ten minute drive from your house at 415 Whitman Avenue to William McKinley High any more. You'd be living at a residential dorm called East Fairchild with a roommate that was TBD. There'd be no more early morning coffee runs with Blaine at the Lima Bean. There'd be no more seeing Blaine's face every day. It was daunting to think about, but also exciting. Your life was about to begin, you told yourself. Welcome to your life, Kurt Hummel.


End file.
